[from The Church (8)]
He waits for the ship down which his wife-to-be will walk. A woman he’s never met. In the day’s scorched beauty. He squints. Leers. And glares.
She’s an earthquake. She’s an earthquake now.
She stands with her arms spread wide. A faint smile. And she comes to him. Eternity: its eyes fading.
Boots. Bed and Pyramids.
In Jerusalem. There’s a circle of soldiers. Young men and women. Boys and girls, really. Dancing. Dancing around their swords.
Not swords. Guns.
God, we are sure, is coming.
We’ve cleared the air with our trumpets. Touched up our beards. Everything’s perfect.
Here, today, eternity’s over!
Over! Over! I tell you, today’s it’s over.
Author Discusses Poems